The Bhagavad Gita and the Epistles of St. Paul

The union of the three streams in the Christ Impulse, the Teaching of Krishna.

Schmidt Number: S-2673

On-line since: 9th January, 2001

LECTURE III

The union of the three streams in the Christ Impulse,the Teaching of Krishna.30 December, 1912

THE whole meaning of a philosophical poem such as the Bhagavad Gita
can only be rightly understood by one to whom such things as are laid
down therein, or in similar works of the world's literature, are not
merely theories, but a destiny; for man's conceptions of the world may
become destiny.

We have in the last few days made acquaintance with two different
conceptions of world-philosophy (not to mention a third, the Vedantic)
two different nuances of world-philosophy which, if we look at them in
the right way, show us most strikingly how a world-philosophy may
become a destiny for the human soul. With the concept of the Sankhya
philosophy one may connect all that a man can attain to in knowledge,
perception of ideas, survey of the world-phenomena; all in which the
life of the soul expresses itself. If we describe that which at the
present day still remains to the normal man of such knowledge, of a
world-philosophy in which the concepts of the world can be expressed
in a scientific form, if we describe that which stands at a lower
level spiritually than Sankhya philosophy we may say that even in our
own age, in so far as our destiny permits, we can still feel the
effects of Sankhya philosophy. This will, however, only be felt by one
who, as far as his destiny allows him, gives himself up to a one-sided
study of such a branch of world-philosophy; a man of whom it might in
a certain respect be said: He is a one-sided scientist, or a Sankhya
philosopher. How does such a man stand as regards the world? What does
he feel in his soul? Well, that is a question which can really only be
answered by experience. One must know what takes place in a soul that
thus devotes itself one-sidedly to a branch of world-philosophy, using
all its forces to acquire a conception of the world in the sense just
characterised. Such a soul might study all the variations of form of
the world-phenomena, might have, so to say, the most complete
understanding of all the forces that express themselves in the world
in the changing forms. If a soul in one incarnation confines itself to
finding opportunity through its capacities and its karma so to
experience the world-phenomena that, whether illuminated by
clairvoyance or not, it chiefly acquires the science of reason, such a
tendency would in all circumstances lead to a certain coldness of the
whole soul life. According to the temperament of that soul, we shall
find that it took on more or less the character of ironical
dissatisfaction concerning the world phenomena, or lack of interest
and general dissatisfaction with the knowledge that strides on from
one phenomenon to another. All that so many souls of our time feel
when confronted with a science consisting merely of learning; the
coldness and barrenness which then depresses them, all this we see
when we investigate a soul-tendency such as is presented here. The
soul would feel devastated, uncertain of itself. It might say: What
should I have gained if I conquered the whole world, and knew nothing
of my own soul, if I could feel nothing, perceive nothing, experience
nothing; if all were emptiness within! To be crammed full of all the
science in the world and yet to be empty within; that, my dear
friends, would be a bitter fate. It would be like being lost among the
world phenomena; it would be like losing everything of value to one's
own inner being.

The condition just described we find in many people who come to us
with some sort of learning or of abstract philosophy. We find it in
those who, themselves unsatisfied and realising their emptiness, have
lost interest in all their knowledge, and seem to be suffering; we
also meet it when a man comes to us with an abstract philosophy, able
to give information about the nature of the Godhead, cosmology and the
human soul in abstract words, yet we can feel that it all comes from
the head, that his heart has no part in it  his soul is empty.
We feel chilled when we meet such a soul. Thus Sankhya philosophy may
become a destiny, a destiny which brings it man near being lost to
himself, a being possessing nothing of his own and from whose
individuality the world can gain nothing.

Then again let us take the case of a soul seeking development in a
one-sided way through Yoga, who is, so to say, lost to the world,
disdaining to know anything about the external world. What good
is it to me, says such a person, to learn how the world
came into existence? I want to find out everything in my own self; I
will advance myself by developing my own powers. Such a person
may perhaps feel an inward glow, may often appear to us somewhat
self-contained, and self-satisfied. That may be; but in the long run
he will not always be thus, on the contrary, in time, such a soul will
be liable to loneliness. When one having led a hermit's life while
seeking the heights of soul-life goes forth into the world, coming
everywhere in contact with the world-phenomena, he may perhaps say:
What do all these things matter to me? and if then,
because of his being unreceptive to all the beauty of the
manifestations and not understanding them he feels lonely, the
exclusiveness leads to a fateful destiny! How can we really get to
know a human being who is using all his power towards the evolution of
his own being and passes his fellowman by, cold and indifferent, as
though he wished to have nothing in common with them? Such a soul may
feel itself to be lost to the world; while to others it may appear
egotistical to excess.

Only when we consider these life-connections do we realise how the
laws of destiny work in the conceptions of the world. In the
background of such great revelations, such great world-philosophies as
the Gita and the Epistles of St. Paul, we are confronted by the ruling
of these laws of destiny. We might say: if we look behind the Gita and
the Epistles of St. Paul, we can see the direct ruling of destiny. How
can we trace destiny in the Epistles?

We often find indicated in them that the real salvation of
soul-development consists in the so-called justification by
faith as compared to the worthlessness of external works;
because of that which the soul may become when it makes the final
connection with the Christ-Impulse, when it takes into itself the
great force that flows from the proper understanding of the
Resurrection of Christ. When we meet with this in the Epistles, we
feel, on the other hand, that the human soul may, so to say, be thrown
back upon itself, and thus be estranged from all external works and
rely entirely on mercy and justification by faith. Then come the
external works; they are there in the world; we do not do away with
them because we turn from them; we join forces with them in the world.
Again destiny rings out to us in all its gigantic greatness. Only when
we look at things in this way do we see the might of such revelations
to mankind.

Now these two revelations to humanity, the Bhagavad Gita and the
Epistles of St. Paul, are outwardly very different from one another;
and this external difference acts upon the soul in every part of these
works. We not only admire the Bhagavad Gita for the reasons we have
briefly given, but because it strikes us as something so poetically
great and powerful; because from every verse it radiates forth to us
the great nobility of the human soul; because in everything spoken
from the mouths of Krishna and his pupil, Arjuna, we feel something
which lifts us above everyday human experiences, above all passions,
above everything emotional which may disturb the soul. We are
transported into a sphere of soul-peace, of clearness, calm,
dispassionateness, freedom from emotion, into an atmosphere of wisdom,
if we allow even one part of the Gita to work upon us; and by reading
the Gita we feel our whole humanity raised to a higher stage. We feel,
all through, that we must first have freed ourselves from a good deal
that is only too human if we wish to allow the sublime Gita to affect
us in the right way. In the case of the Pauline Epistles, all this is
different. The sublimity of the poetical language is lacking, even the
dispassionateness is lacking. We take up these Epistles and allow them
to influence us, and we feel over and over again how what is wafted
towards us from the mouth of St. Paul comes from a being, passionately
indignant at what has happened. Sometimes the tone is scolding, or
 one might say  condemnatory; in the Pauline Epistles this
or that is often cursed; there is scolding. The things that are stated
as to the great concepts of Christianity, as to Grace, the Law, the
difference between the law of Moses and Christianity, the Resurrection
 all this is stated in a tone that is supposed to be
philosophical, that is meant to be a philosophical definition but is
not, because in every sentence one hears a Pauline note. We cannot in
any single sentence forget that it is spoken by a man who is either
excited or expressing righteous indignation against others who have
done this or that; or who so speaks about the highest concepts of
Christianity that we feel he is personally interested; he gives the
impression that he is the propagandist of these ideas. . Where could
we find in the Gita sentiments of a personal kind such as we find in
the Epistles in which St. Paul writes to this or that community:
How have we ourselves fought for Christ Jesus! Remember that we
have not become a burden to any, now that we laboured night and day
that we might not be a burden to any. How personal all this is!
A breath of the personal runs through the Pauline Epistles. In the
sublime Gita we find a wonderfully pure sphere-an etheric sphere-that
borders on the superhuman and at times extends into it. Externally,
therefore, there are powerful differences, and we may say that it
would be blindest. prejudice not to admit that through the great Song
that once was given to Hinduism, flows the union of mighty fateful
world-philosophies, that through the Gita something of a noble purity,
quite impersonal, calm and passionless, was given to the Hindus; while
the original documents of Christianity  the Epistles of St. Paul
 bear, as it were, an entirely personal, often a passionate
character, utterly devoid of calm. One does not attain knowledge by
turning away from the truth and by refusing to admit such things, but
rather by understanding them in the right way. Let us, therefore,
inscribe this antithesis on a tablet of bronze, as it were, during our
subsequent considerations.

We have already pointed out in yesterday's lecture, that in the Gita
we find the significant instruction of Arjuna by Krishna. Now who
exactly is Krishna? This question must, above all, be of interest to
us. One cannot understand who Krishna is if one does not make oneself
acquainted with a point which I have already taken the opportunity of
mentioning in various places; that is, that in earlier ages the whole
system of giving names and descriptions was quite different from what
it is now. As a matter of fact, it does not now in the least matter
what a man is called. For we do not in reality know much about a man
in our present time by learning that he bears this or that well-known
name, that he is called Miller or Smith. We do not really, know much
about a man  as everyone will admit  by hearing that he is
a Privy Councillor, or anything else of the kind. We do not
necessarily know much about people because we know to what social rank
they belong. Neither do we know much of a man today because he has to
be addressed as your honour or your Excellency
or my lord; in short, all these titles do not signify
much; and you may easily convince yourselves that other designations
that we make use of today are not very important either. In bygone
ages this was different. Whether we take the description of the
Sankhya philosophy or our own, we can start from either and make the
following reflections.

We have heard that, according to Sankhya philosophy, man consists of
the. physical body, the finer elemental or etheric body, the body that
contains the regular forces of the senses, the body which is called
Manas, Ahamkara, and so on. We need not consider the other, higher
principles, because they are not, as a rule, developed yet; but if we
now consider human beings such as we see them in this or that
incarnation, we may say: Men differ from each other, so that in one
that which is expressed through the etheric body is strongly
predominant, and in another that which is connected with the laws
regulating the senses, in a third that which pertains to the inner
senses, in a fourth Ahamkara. Or, in our own language, we may say that
we find people in whom the forces of the sentient soul are
particularly prominent; others in whom the forces of the intellectual
or mind-soul are more particularly active; others in whom the forces
of the consciousness soul predominate and others again in whom
something inspired by Manas plays a part, and so on. These differences
are to be seen in the whole manner of life which a man leads. They are
indications of the real nature of the man himself. We cannot at the
present time, for reasons which are easily understood, designate a man
according to the nature which thus expresses itself; for if one were,
for instance, to say at the present day, men's convictions being what
they are, that the highest to which a man could attain in the present
cycle of humanity was a trace of Ahamkara, each one would be convinced
that he himself expressed Ahamkara more clearly in his own being than
other people did, and it would be mortifying for him if he were told
that this was not the case, that in him a lower principle still ruled.
In olden times it was not thus. A man was then named according to what
was most essential in him; especially when it was a question of
putting him over others, perhaps by giving him the part of a leader,
he would be designated by dwelling especially on the essential part of
his being just described.

Let us suppose that in olden times there was a man who, in the truest
sense of the words, had brought Manas to expression within him, who
had certainly in himself experienced Ahamkara, but had allowed this as
an individual element to retire more into the background and on
account of his external activity had cultivated Manas; then according
to the laws of the older, smaller, human cycles  and only quite
exceptional men could have experienced this  such a man would
have had to be a great law-giver, a leader of great masses of people.
And one would not have been satisfied to designate him in the same way
as other men, but would have called him after his prominent
characteristic, a Manas-bearer; whereas another might only be called a
senses-bearer. One would have said: That is a Manas-bearer, he is a
Manu. When we come across designations pertaining to those olden
times, we must take them as descriptive of the most prominent
principle of a man's human organisation, that which most strongly
expressed itself in him in that particular incarnation. Suppose that
in a particular man what was most specially expressed was that he felt
divine inspiration within him, that he had put aside all question of
ruling his actions and studies by what the external world teaches
through the senses and by what reason teaches through the brain, but
listened instead in all things to the Divine Word which spoke to him,
and made himself a messenger for the Divine Substance that spoke out
of him! Such a man would have been called a Son of God. In the Gospel
of St. John, such men were still called Sons of God, even at the very
beginning of the first chapter.

The essential thing was that everything else was left out of
consideration when this significant part was expressed. Everything
else was unimportant. Suppose we were to meet two men; one of whom had
been just an ordinary man, who allowed the world to act upon him
through his senses and reflected upon it afterwards with the intellect
attached to his brain; the other one into whom the word of divine
wisdom had radiated. According to the old ideas we should have said:
This first one is a man, he is born of a father and mother, was
begotten according to the flesh. In the case of the other, who was a
messenger of the Divine Substance, no consideration would be given to
that which makes up an ordinary biography, as would be the case with
the first who contemplated the world through his senses and by means
of the reason belonging to his brain. To write such a biography of the
second man would have been folly. For the fact of his bearing a
fleshly body was only accidental, and not the essential thing; that
was, so to speak, only the means through which he expressed himself to
other men. Therefore we say: The Son of God is not born of flesh but
of a Virgin, he is born straight from the Spirit; that is to say, what
is essential in him, through which he is of value to humanity,
descends from the Spirit, and in the olden times it was that alone
which was honoured. In certain schools of initiation it would have
been considered a great sin to write an ordinary biography, which only
alluded to everyday occurrences, of a person of whom it had been
recognised that he was remarkable because of the higher principles of
his human nature. Anyone who has preserved even a little of the
sentiments of those old times cannot but consider biographies such as
those written of Goethe as in the highest degree absurd. Now let us
remember that in those olden times mankind lived with ideas and
feelings such as these, and then we can understand how this old
humanity was permeated with the conviction that such a Manu, in whom
Manas was the prevailing principle, appears but seldom, that he must
wait long epochs before he can appear.

Now if you think of what may live in a man of our present cycle of
humanity as the deepest part of his being, which every man can dimly
sense as those secret forces within him which can raise him up to
soul-heights; if we think of this, which in most men exists only in
rudiment, becoming in a very rare case the essential principle of a
human being-a being who only appears from time to time to become a
leader of other men, who is higher than all the Manus, who dwells as
an essence in every man, but who' as an actual external personality
only appears once in a cosmic epoch; if we can form such a conception
as this, we are getting nearer to the being of Krishna. He is man as a
whole; he is  one might almost say  humanity as such,
thought of as a single being. Yet he is no abstract being. When people
today speak of mankind in general, they speak of it in the abstract,
because they themselves are abstract thinkers. The abstract being is
we ourselves today, ensnared as we are in the sense-world, and this
has become our common destiny. When one speaks of mankind in general,
one has only an indistinct perception and not a living idea of it.
Those who speak of Krishna as of man in general, do not mean the
abstract idea one has in one's mind today. No, they say,
true, this Being lives in germ in every man, but he only appears
as an individual man, and speaks with the mouth of a man once in every
cosmic age. But with this Being it is not a question of the
external fleshly body, or the more refined elemental body, or the
forces of the sense-organs, or Ahamkara and Manas, but the chief thing
is that which in Budhi and Manas is directly connected with the great
universal cosmic substance, with the divine which lives and weaves
through the world.

From time to time Beings appear for the guidance of mankind such as we
look up to in Krishna, the Great Teacher of Arjuna. Krishna teaches
the highest human wisdom, the highest humanity, and he teaches it as
being his own nature, and also in such a way that it is related to
every human being, for all that is contained in the words of Krishna
is to be found in germ in every human soul. Thus when a man looks up
to Krishna he is both looking up to his own highest self and also at
another: who can appear before him as another man in whom he honours
that which he himself has the predisposition to become, yet who is a
separate being from himself and bears the same relationship to him as
a God does to man. In this way must we think of the relationship of
Krishna to his pupil Arjuna, and then we obtain the keynote of that
which sounds forth to us out of the Gita; that keynote which sounds as
though it belonged to every soul and can resound in every soul, which
is wholly human, so intimately human that each soul feels it would be
ashamed if it did not feel within it the longing to listen to the
great teachings of Krishna. On the other hand, it all seems so calm,
so passionless, so dispassionate, so sublime and wise, because the
highest speaks; that which is the divine in every human nature and
which yet once appears in the evolution of mankind, incorporated, as a
divine human being. How sublime are these teachings! They are really
so sublime that the Gita rightly bears the name of the Sublime
Song or the Bhagavad Gita. Within it we find, above
all, teachings of which we spoke in yesterday's lecture, sublime words
arising from a sublime situation; the teaching that all that changes
in the world, although it may change in such a way that arising and
passing away, birth and death, victory or defeat, appear to be
external events, in them all is expressed something, everlasting,
eternal, permanently existent; so that he who wishes to contemplate
the world properly must raise himself from the transitory to this
permanence. We already met with this in Sankhya, in the reasoned
reflections as to the permanent in everything transitory, of how both
the conquered and the victorious soul are equal before God when the
door of death closes behind them.

Then Krishna further tells his pupil, Arjuna, that the soul also may
be led away from the contemplation of everyday things by another path,
that is, through Yoga. If a soul is capable of devotion, that is the
other side of its development. One side is that of passing from one
phenomenon to another and always directing the ideas, whether
illuminated by clairvoyance or not, to these phenomena. The other side
is that in which a man turns his whole attention away from the outer
world, shuts the door of the senses, shuts out all that reason and
understanding have to say about the world, closes all the doors to
what he can remember having experienced in his ordinary life, and
enters into his innermost being. By means of suitable exercises he
then draws up that which dwells in his own soul; he directs the soul
to that which he can dimly sense as the highest, and by the strength
of devotion tries to raise himself. Where this occurs he rises higher
and higher by means of Yoga, finally reaching to the higher stages
which can be attained by first making use of the bodily instruments;
he reaches those higher stages in which we live when freed from all
bodily instruments, when, so to say, we live outside the body, in the
higher principles of the human Organisation. He thus raises himself
into a completely different form of life. The phenomena of life and
their activities become spiritual: he approaches ever nearer and
nearer to his own divine existence, and enlarges his own being to
cosmic being, enlarges the human being to God inasmuch as he loses the
individual limitations of his own being and is merged in the ALL
through Yoga.

The methods by which the pupil of the great Krishna may rise by one of
these ways to the spiritual heights are then given. First of all, a
distinction is made between what men have to do in the ordinary world.
It is indeed a grand situation in which the Gita places this before
us. Arjuna has to fight against his blood-relations. That is his
external destiny, it is his own doing, his Karma, which comprises the
deeds which he must first of all accomplish in this particular
situation. In these deeds he lives at first as external man; but the
great Krishna teaches him that a man only becomes wise, only unites
himself with the Divine Eternal if he performs his deeds because they
themselves in the external course of nature and of the evolution of
humanity prove to be necessary; yet the wise man must release himself
from them. He performs the deeds; but in him there is something which
at the same time is a looker-on at these deeds, which has no part in
them, which says: I do this work, but I might just as well say: I let
it happen. One becomes wise by looking on at what one does as though
it were being done by another; and by not allowing oneself to be
disturbed by the desire which causes the deed or by the sorrow it may
produce. It is all one, says the great Krishna to his
pupil Arjuna, whether thou art in the ranks of the sons of
Pandu, or over there among the sons of Kuru; what ever thou doest,
thou must as a wise man make thyself free from Pandu-ism and Kuru-ism.
If it does not affect thee whether thou art to act with the Pandus as
though one of them, or to act with the Kurus as though thou were
thyself a son of Kuru; if thou canst rise above all this and not be
affected by thine own deeds, like a flame which burns quietly in a
place protected from the wind, undisturbed by anything external: if
thy soul, as little disturbed by its own deeds, lives quietly beside
them, then does it become wise; then does it free itself from its
deeds, and does not inquire what success attends them. For the
result of our deeds only concerns the narrow limitations of our soul;
but if we perform them because humanity or the course of the world
require them from us, then we perform these deeds regardless as to
whether they lead to dreadful or to glorious results for ourselves.
This lifting oneself above one's deeds, this standing upright no
matter what our hands may carry out, even  speaking of the Gita
situation  what our swords may carry out or what we may speak
with our mouth; this standing upright of our inner self regardless of
all that we speak with our mouth and do with our hands, this it is to
which the great Krishna leads his pupil Arjuna. Thus the great Krishna
directs his pupil Arjuna to a human ideal, which is so presented that
a man says: I perform my deeds, but it matters not whether they
are performed by me or by another  I look on at them: that which
happens by my hand or is spoken by my mouth, I can look on at as
objectively as though I saw a rock being loosened and rolling down the
mountain into the depths. Thus do I stand as regards my deeds; and
although I may be in a position to know this or that, to form concepts
of the world, I myself am quite distinct from these concepts, and I
may say: In me there dwells something which is, it is true, united to
me and which perceives, but I look on at what another is perceiving.
Thus I myself am liberated from my perceptions. I can become free from
my deeds, free from my knowledge and free from my perceptions. A high
idea of human wisdom is thus placed before us! And finally, when it
rises into the spiritual, whether I encounter demons or holy Spirits,
I can look on at them externally. I myself stand there, free from
everything that is going on even in the spiritual worlds around me. I
look on, and go my own way, and take no part in that in which I take
part, because I have become a looker-on. That is the teaching of
Krishna.

Now having heard that the Krishna teaching is based upon the Sankhya
philosophy, it will be quite clear to us that it must be so. In many
places one can see it shining through the teaching of Krishna; as when
the great Krishna says to his pupil: The soul that lives in thee is
connected in several different ways; it is connected with the coarse
physical body, it is connected with the senses, with Manas, Ahamkara,
Budhi; but thou art distinct from them all. If thou regardest all
these as external, as sheaths surrounding thee, if thou art conscious
that as a soul-being thou art independent of them all, then hast thou
understood something of what Krishna wishes to teach thee. If thou art
aware that thy connections with the outer world, with the world in
general, were given thee through the Gunas, through Tamas, Rajas, and
Sattva, then learn that in ordinary life man is connected with wisdom
and virtue through Sattva, with the passions and affections, with the
thirst for existence through Rajas; and that through Tamas he is
connected with idleness, nonchalance and sleepiness. Why does a man in
ordinary life feel enthusiasm for wisdom and virtue? Because he is
related to the basic nature characterised by Sattva. Why does a man in
ordinary life feel joy and longing for the external life, feel
pleasure in the external phenomena of life? Because he has a relation
to life indicated through Rajas. Why do people go through ordinary
life sleepy, lazy and inactive? Why do they feel oppressed by their
corporality? Why do they not find it possible continually to rouse
themselves and conquer their bodily nature? Because they are connected
with the world of external forms which in Sankhya philosophy is
expressed through Tamas. But the soul of the wise man must become free
from Tamas, must sever its connection with the external world
expressed by sleepiness, laziness and inactivity. When these are
expunged from the soul, then it is only connected with the external
world through Rajas and Sattva. When a man has extinguished his
passions and affections and the thirst for existence, retaining the
enthusiasm for virtue, compassion and knowledge, his connection with
the external world henceforth is what Sankhya philosophy calls Sattva.
But when a man has also become liberated from that tendency to
goodness and knowledge, when, although a kindly and wise man, he is
independent of his outward expression even as regards kindness and
knowledge; when kindness is a natural duty and wisdom as something
poured out over him, then he has also severed his connection with
Sattva. When, however, he has thus stripped off the three Gunas, then
he has freed himself from all connection with every external form,
then he triumphs in his soul and understands something of what the
great Krishna wants to make of him.

What, then, does man grasp, when he thus strives to become what the
great Krishna holds before him as the ideal-what does he then
understand? Does he then more clearly understand the forms of the
outer world? No, he had already understood these; but he has raised
himself above them. Does he more clearly grasp the relation of the
soul to those external forms? No, he had already grasped that, but he
has raised himself above it. It is not that which he may meet with in
the external world in the multitude of forms, or his connection with
these forms, which he now understands when he strips off the three
Gunas; for all that belongs to earlier stages. As long as one remains
in Tamas, Rajas, or Sattva, one becomes connected with the natural
rudiments of existence, adapts oneself to social relationships and to
knowledge, and acquires the qualities of kindness and sympathy. But if
one has risen above all that, one has stripped off all these
connections at the preceding stages. What does one then perceive, what
springs up before one's eyes? That which one perceives and which
springs up before one is what these are not. What can that be which is
distinct from everything one acquires along the path of the Gunas

This is none other than what one finally recognise as one's own being,
for all else which may belong to the external world has been stripped
away at the preceding stages. In the sense of the foregoing, what is
this? It is Krishna himself; for he is himself the expression of what
is highest in oneself. This means that when one has worked oneself up
to the highest, one is face to face with Krishna, the pupil with his
great Teacher, Arjuna with Krishna himself: who lives in all things
that exist and who can truly say of himself: I am not a solitary
mountain, if I am among the mountains I am the largest of them all; if
I appear upon the earth I am not a single man, but the greatest human
manifestation, one that only appears once in a cosmic age as a leader
of mankind, and so on; the unity in all forms, that am I,
Krishna.  Thus does the teacher himself appear to his
pupil, present in his own Being. At the same time it is made clear in
the Bhagavad Gita that this is something great and mighty, the highest
to which a man can attain. To appear before Krishna, as did Arjuna,
might come about through gradual stages of initiation; it would then
take place in the depths of a Yoga schooling; but it may also be
represented as flowing forth from the evolution of humanity itself,
given to man by an act of grace, as it were, and thus it is
represented in the Gita. Arjuna was uplifted suddenly at a bound, as
it were, so that bodily he has Krishna before him; and the Gita leads
up to a definite. point, the point at which Krishna stood before him.
He does not now stand before him as a man of flesh and blood. A man
who could be looked upon as other men would represent what is
nonessential in Krishna. For that is essential which is in all men;
but as the other kingdoms of the world represent, as it were, only
scattered humanity, so all that is in the rest of the world is in
Krishna. The rest of the world disappears and Krishna is there as ONE.
As the macrocosm to the microcosm, as mankind, as a whole, compared to
the small everyday man, so is Krishna to the individual man.

Human power of comprehension is not sufficient to grasp this if the
consciousness of it should come to man by an act of grace, for
Krishna, if one looks at the essential in him  which is only
possible to the highest clairvoyant power  appears quite
different from anything man is accustomed to see. As though the vision
of man were uplifted above all else to perceive the vision of Krishna
in his highest nature, we catch sight of him for one moment in the
Gita, as the great Man, compared with whom everything else in the
world must appear small; He it is before whom stands Arjuna. Then the
power of comprehension forsakes Arjuna. He can only gaze and haltingly
express what he beholds. That is to be understood: for by means of the
methods he has used until now, he has not learned to look at such as
this, or to describe it in words; and the descriptions that Arjuna
gives at this moment when he stands before Krishna, must be thought of
thus. For one of the greatest artistic and philosophical presentations
ever given to humanity is the description of how Arjuna, with words
which he speaks for the first time, which he is unaccustomed to speak,
which he has never spoken before because he has never come within
reach of them, expresses in words drawn from the deepest parts of his
being what he feels on seeing the great Krishna: All the Gods do
I perceive in Thy, body, O God, so also the multitude of all beings.
Brahma the Lord, on His Lotus-seat, all the Rishis and the Heavenly
Serpent. With many arms, bodies, mouths and eyes, do I see Thee
everywhere, in countless forms, neither end, middle nor beginning do I
see in Thee, O Lord of everything! Thou appearest to me in all forms,
Thou appearest to me with a diadem, a club, a sword, as a flaming
mountain radiating out on all sides, thus do I see Thee. My vision is
dazzled, as radiant fire by the brilliance of the sun, and
immeasurably great. The Everlasting, the Highest that can be known,
the Greatest Good; thus dost Thou appear to me in the wide universe.
The Eternal Guardian of the Eternal Right art Thou. Thou standest
before my soul as the Eternal Primeval Spirit. Thou showest me no
beginning, no middle and no end. Thou art eternally everywhere,
infinite in force, infinite in the distances of space. Thine eyes are,
as big as the moon, yea, as big as the sun itself, and out of Thy
mouth there radiates sacrificial fire. I contemplate Thee in Thy glow
and I perceive how Thy glow warms the universe which I can dimly sense
between the ground of the earth and the breadth of heaven, all this is
filled with Thy power. I am alone there with Thee, and that world in
Heaven wherein the three worlds dwell is also within Thee, when Thy
wondrous, awful Figure displays Itself to my sight. I see whole
multitudes of Gods coming to Thee, singing praises to Thee, and I
stand there afraid, with folded hands. All the hosts of seers call
Thee blessed, and so do the multitude of saints. They praise Thee in
all their hymns of praise. The Adityas, Rudras, Vasus, Sadkyas,
Visvas, Aswins, Maruts, Ushmapas, Ghandarvas, Yakshas, Siddhas,
Asuras, and all the Saints praise Thee; they look up to Thee full of
wonder: Such a gigantic form with so many mouths, arms, legs, feet; so
many bodies, so many jaws filled with teeth; the whole world trembles
before Thee and I too tremble. The Heaven-shattering, radiating,
many-armed One, with a mouth working as though it were great flaming
eyes, thus do I behold Thee. My soul quakes. I cannot find security or
rest, O great Krishna, Who to me art Vishnu Himself. I gaze into Thy
menacing innermost Being, I behold It like unto fire, I see how It
works, how existence works, what is the end of all times. I gaze at
Thee so, that I can know nothing of anything whatever. Oh! be Thou
merciful unto me, Lord of Gods, Thou House in which worlds do
dwell. He turns towards the sons of the race of Kuru and points
to them: These sons of the Kuru all assembled here together,
this multitude of kingly heroes, Bhishma and Drona, together with our
own best fighters, they all lie praying before Thee, marvelling at Thy
wondrous beauty. I am fain to know Thee, Thou Primal Beginning of
existence. I cannot comprehend that which appears to me, which reveals
itself to me. Thus speaks Arjuna, when he is alone with Him Who
is his own being, when this Being appears objectively to him. We are
here confronted with a great cosmic mystery, mysterious not on account
of its theoretical contents, but on account of the overpowering
sensations which it should call up within us if we are able to grasp
it aright. Mysterious it is, so mysterious that it must speak in a
different way to every human perception from how anything in the world
ever spoke before.

When Krishna Himself caused to sound into the ears of Arjuna that
which He then spoke, it sounded thus: I am Time, which destroys
all worlds. I have appeared to carry men away, and even if thou shalt
bring death to them in battle, yet all these warriors standing there
in line would die even without thee. Rise up, therefore, fearlessly.
Thou shalt acquire fame and conquer the foe, Exult over the coming
victory and mastery. Thou wilt not have killed them when they fall
dead in the battle; by Me they are all killed already, before thou
canst bring death to them. Thou art only the instrument, thou fightest
only with the hand The Dronas, the Jayadanas, the Bhishmas, the
Karnas, and the other warrior heroes whom I have killed, who are
already dead  now kill thou them, that my actions may appear
externally when they fall dead in Maya; those whom I have already
killed, kill thou them. That which I have done will appear to have
been done by thee. Tremble not! Thou art not able to do anything which
I have not done already. Fight! Those whom I have already killed will
fall by thy sword. We know that all there given in the way of
instruction to the sons of Pandu by Krishna to Arjuna, is related as
though told by the charioteer to Dritarashtra. The poet does not
directly relate: Thus spake Krishna to Arjuna ; the poet
tells us that Sandshaya, the charioteer of Dritarashtra, relates it to
his blind hero, the king of the Kurus. After Sandshaya related all
this he then spoke further: And when Arjuna had received these
words from Krishna, reverently with folded hands, tremblingly,
stammering with fear and bowing deeply, he answered Krishna:
With right doth the world rejoice in Thy glory, and is filled
with reverence before Thee. The Rajas (these are spirits)
flee in all directions, furious. The holy Hosts all bow down
before Thee. Wherefore should they not bow down before the First
Creator, Who is even greater than Brahma? Truly we are confronting a
great cosmic mystery; for what says Arjuna when he sees his own self
before him in bodily form? He addresses this own Being of his as
though it appeared to him higher than Brahma Himself. We are face to
face with a mystery. For when a man thus addresses his own being, such
words must be so understood that none of the feelings, none of the
perceptions, none of the ideas, none of the thoughts used in ordinary
life must be brought to bear upon the comprehension. Nothing could
bring a man into greater danger than to bring feelings such as he may
otherwise have in life to bear upon these words of Arjuna. If he were
to bring any such feelings of everyday life to bear upon what he thus
expresses, if this were not something quite unique, if he did not
realise this as the greatest cosmic mystery, then would lunacy and
madness be small things compared to the illness into which he would
fall through bringing ordinary feelings to bear upon Krishna, that is
to say, upon his own higher being. Thou Lord of Gods, Thou art
without end, Thou art the Everlasting, Thou art the Highest, Thou art
both Existence and Non-existence, Thou art the greatest of the Gods,
Thou art the oldest of the Gods, Thou art the greatest treasure of the
whole universe, Thou art He Who knowest and Thou art the Highest
Consciousness. Thou embracest the universe, within Thee are all the
forms which can possibly exist, Thou art the Wind, Thou art the Fire,
Thou art Death, Thou art the eternally moving Cosmic Sea, Thou art the
Moon, Thou art the highest of the Gods, the Name Itself, Thou art the
Ancestor of the highest of the Gods. Worship must be Thine, a
thousand, thousand times over, and ever more than all this worship is
due to Thee. Worship must come to Thee from all Thy sides, Thou art
everything that a man can ever become. Thou art full of strength as
the totality of all strength alone can be, Thou perfectest all things
and Thou art at the same time Thyself everything. When I am impatient,
and taking Thee to be my friend, I call Thee Krishna: call Thee Yiva,
Friend; ignorant of Thy wonderful greatness, unthinking and confiding
I so call Thee, and if in my weakness I do not reverence Thee aright,
if I do not rightly reverence Thee in Thy wanderings or in Thy
stillness, in the highest Divine or in everyday life, whether Thou art
alone or united with other Beings, if in all this I do not reverence
Thee aright, then do I implore pardon of Thy Immeasurableness. Thou
Father of the world, Thou Who movest the world in which Thou movest,
Thou Who art more than all the other teachers, to Whom none resembles,
Who art above all, to Whom nothing in the three worlds can be
compared; prostrating myself before Thee I seek Thy mercy, Thou Lord,
Who revealest Thyself in all worlds. In Thee I gaze at That which
never has been seen, I tremble before Thee in reverence. Show Thyself
to me as Thou art, O God! Be merciful, Thou Lord of Gods, Thou Primal
Source of all worlds!

Truly we are confronted with a mystery when human being speaks thus to
human being. And Krishna again speaks to his pupil: I have
revealed Myself to thee in mercy, My highest Being stands before thee,
through My almighty power and as though by enchantment it is before
thee, illuminating, immeasurable, without beginning. As thou now
beholdest Me no other man has ever beheld Me. As thou beholdest Me
now, through the forces which by my grace have been given to thee,
have I never been revealed, even through what is written in the Vedas,
thus have I never been reached by means of the sacrifices. No libation
to the Gods, no study, no ceremonial whatsoever has ever attained unto
Me, no terrible expiation can lead to beholding Me in My form as I now
am, as thou now beholdest Me in human form, thou great hero. But fear
must not come to thee, or confusion at the sight of My dreadful form.
Free from fear, full of high thoughts thou shalt again behold Me, even
as I am now known unto thee, in My present shape. Then Sandshaya
further relates to the blind Dritarashtra: When Krishna had thus
spoken to Arjuna, the Immeasurable One  without beginning and
without end, sublime beyond all strength  vanished, and Krishna
showed Himself again in his human form as though he wished by his
friendly form to reassure him who had been so terrified. And Arjuna
said: Now I see Thee once more before me in Thy human shape, now
knowledge and consciousness return to me and I am again myself, such
as I was. And Krishna spoke: The shape which was so
difficult for thee to behold, in which thou hast just seen Me, that is
the form for the sight of which even Gods have endlessly longed. The
Vedas do not indicate My shape, it will neither be attained by
'repentance, nor by charity, neither by sacrifice, nor by any ritual
whatsoever. By none of these can I be seen in the form in which thou
hast just seen Me. Only one who knows how to go along the way in
freedom, free from all the Vedas, free from all repentances, free from
all charities and sacrifices, free from all ceremonials, keeping his
eyes reverently fixed upon Me alone, only such an one can perceive Me
in such a shape, he alone can recognise Me thus, and can also become
entirely one with Me. Whosoever behaveth thus, as I put it into his
mind to behave, whosoever loveth and honoureth Me, whosoever doth not
care for the world and to whom all beings are worthy of love, he comes
to Me, O thou, My son of the race of Pandu.

We are confronted with a cosmic mystery of which the Gita tells us
that it was given to mankind at a most significant cosmic hour, that
significant cosmic hour when the old clairvoyance which is connected
with the blood, ceases: and human souls must seek new paths to the
everlasting, to the intransitory. Thus this mystery is brought to our
notice so that we may at the same time realise by means of its
presentation all that can become dangerous to man when he is able to
see his own being brought to birth out of himself. If we grasp this
deepest of human and cosmic mysteries  which tells of our own
being through true self knowledge  then we have before us the
greatest cosmic mystery in the world. But we may only put it before us
if we are able to reverence it in all humility. No powers of
comprehension will suffice, none will enable us to approach this
cosmic mystery; for that the correct sentiment is necessary. No one
should approach the cosmic mystery that speaks from out the Gita who
cannot approach it reverentially. Only when we can feel thus about it
do we completely grasp it. How, starting from this point of view one
is able in the Gita to look at a certain stage of human evolution, and
how, just by means of what is shown to us in the Gita, light can also
be thrown upon what we meet with in a different way in the Epistles of
St. Paul  that it is which, is to occupy us in the course of
these lectures.